


Have Someone

by amandaskankovich



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 16:32:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/889434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amandaskankovich/pseuds/amandaskankovich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’ll never know that feeling of crying so hard it makes everyone else want to kill you but it’s the only way you know how to make it clear how much you need and have someone love you enough to hold you close and walk with you and sing to you until you feel safe enough to sleep and stop.</p><p>He has to say something to her. He knows that.</p><p>Or he’ll never get to leave this room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have Someone

**Author's Note:**

> Summary changed because I decided the original was no good.

So the day the fetus inside of Mickey’s wife….Okay so the day of the spontaneous abortion of the baby she was carrying…  
So the day Mickey’s whore baby died….  
Okay, okay.  
Svetlana never called Mickey. She just didn’t.  
Ian didn’t know how much she knew if she knew anything but he figured she and Mickey must have some kind of understanding about where he went when he wasn’t with her (and he was almost never with her) about calling.  
Because she did not call.  
But the day that Ian thinks about it Mickey’s cheap ass burner phone kept buzzing and buzzing and buzzing and eventually Ian counted 12 buzzes. 12 texts.  
If Ian thinks about it not that he really wants to think about it because it doesn’t really have anything to do with him but if he thinks about it because he kind of can’t help thinking about it when Mickey’s wife miscarried… The day it probably happened and maybe right when it was happening…he and Mickey were probably fucking.  
Probably.  
Actually the definitely were.  
Right at that instant when whatever happens when these things happen.  
The baby she was carrying just died.  
When Ian was climaxing inside of the teenager she’d married.  
The day he’d bit his tongue hard to keep from saying what was trying so hard to come out.  
“I love you, I love you, I love you.”  
Ian debates to himself how guilty he should feel about it.  
Because the answer should be not at all right?  
*  
Mickey’s not sure what he should do.  
Talk to her?  
How the fuck is he supposed to do that?  
But it’s been 3 days now since it happened and she won’t get out of bed except to use the bathroom.  
One of her whore friends (What the fuck is her name? Mickey thinks maybe she said it was Josie or Jinxie but who the fuck is named Jinxie?) she comes over and tells Svetlana that Vera is starting to get pissed. She’s costing her money laying in bed crying over some baby that wasn’t even real yet.  
She’ll give her one more day and then she’s got to get back to work.  
Terry’s sick of this too. He’s got no time for this shit. How can he be expected to deal with this woman walking around crying all the time who the fuck has time for that shit?  
“Deal with your fucking woman,” Terry tells his son.  
Mandy doesn’t say much of anything. But it was her who’d come home that day to Svetlana crying on the toilet and kept texting and calling Mickey because what else could she do?  
Sobbing like someone was dying right in front of her.  
Because from Svetlana’s point of view someone kind of was.  
*  
Mickey wants to tell her it’s not as bad as she thinks.  
Because…it’s not right?  
It’s a relief actually. Doesn’t she feel it?  
That baby that almost was…when Svetlana was still pregnant whenever Mickey thought about that kid it always got so hard to breath. His hands would start to shake.  
He’d think of a crying baby in their house.  
The last time that had happened…right after Molly was born.  
Mickey was 8 maybe.  
And Molly’s mom came home from the hospital looking like shit.  
It was the first thing Terry said to her, “You look like shit.”  
She’d stayed clean for 9 whole months.  
So that her kid would be born clean and they wouldn’t take him away like her first son.  
That one hadn’t been Terry’s.  
Probably.  
Mickey wasn't sure.  
Because Mickey's mom was probably still alive when that kid was probably born. Sick as shit and dying yeah but she was still alive.  
And Mickey liked to think his old man wasn't out knocking up some random junkie while his wife was puking and crying and dying and the only ones around to take care of her were her sister who only came around sometimes because she hated the way the Milkovich house smelled and she said Mickey and his siblings took money out of her purse (which they did) but come the fuck on they were hungry. Since their mom got sick no one cooked. Terry was off who the fuck knows where and the one time Mickey’d tried to make hot dogs for him and Mandy when they were the only ones home with their mom he’d dropped the pot picking it up off the stove. Burned the side of his leg and that was it. So they stole money and got pizza or cereal or just bought candy and shit because they were hungry. When she didn’t come around his brothers would steal it and they weren’t good at it right away.  
So the first time they got caught that was one of the days Terry was home.  
The cop showed up holding Jamie with one hand and Tony with the other.  
“Caught these two shoplifting,” he said.  
His brothers were 10 and 11 so the cop didn’t really want to take them in for stealing maybe $15 worth of junk food. He figured it would be best to just let their dad handle it.  
That stupid son of a bitch he thought he was being nice.  
Jamie’s jaw still clicks from when Terry broke it.  
But they learned.  
They didn’t get caught again.  
*  
Anyway it was just her sister (sometimes) and her kids all under the age of 13. All not having any idea what to do when the sister (who disappeared completely the day they buried their mom) wasn’t around.  
So Mandy would feed her pieces of ice and brush her hair sometimes.  
She liked that. And Mickey and his brothers would take turns helping her get to the bathroom when she needed and emptying the bucket she puked in once it got full (and it always got full). Cleaning her sheets when they were too late sometimes getting to her.  
They were too late a lot.  
Anyway…that kid that was probably not Terry’s (probably) he was born addicted to heroin so they took him away.  
And Molly’s mom was obsessed with that from the second she found out she was pregnant.  
“They can’t take this one from me Terry. I can’t go through that again.”  
She begged him to help her.  
So he did.  
He kept her locked in the bedroom that had been Mickey’s mom’s for over a week.  
She’d scream and cry and vomit and say she was dying and Mickey thought maybe she was.  
But Terry would come by every night with food for her.  
When he wasn’t around she was his kids responsibility.  
They’d empty the bucket she puked in.  
They’d help her to the bathroom.  
If she tried to run away they’d tackle her down and drag her back into the room and handcuff her back to the bed.  
Usually it took all 5 of them together but they got it done.  
Mickey thought maybe she’d die but she didn’t.  
Mickey thought maybe the baby would die but it didn’t.  
And Mickey would think about this years later.  
About the time and the effort Terry actually put in to making sure this random junkie got to keep her kid.  
And he knew for his father that was love.  
*  
Mickey didn’t like thinking about this shit.  
Molly’s mom disappeared 6 days after bringing her baby home.  
She couldn’t deal with Terry telling her how fucked she looked.  
Couldn’t deal with all the crying and Molly…was a fucking miserable baby.  
The kid cried all the fucking time.  
Day and night just this brutal sobbing and Terry couldn’t stand it.  
The kids couldn’t stand it.  
No one could fucking stand it.  
Terry asked Molly’s mom if she had any fucking clue how to take care of her own fucking kid?  
And she probably didn’t. She’d been the youngest she told Mandy one day when she was trying to get 7 year old to bond with her a little.  
Mandy couldn’t have been less interested but if she listened to Molly’s mom talk she’d get to try on her make up while she did.  
So Mandy learned how to apply eyeliner at age 7 and Molly’s mom talked.  
She’d been the youngest of 3 girls and they took her last kid away right after he was born.  
So no, she didn’t know much about babies.  
But she’d tried. She’d make bottle after bottle. She’d walk around the house rocking Molly. (“What kind of a name is Molly for a boy?” Terry had asked, “It was my grandfather’s name.” Molly’s mom responded)  
She’d even sing to the kid. And she even had kind of a nice voice and sometimes it would work. Sometimes the baby’s crying would get quieter and quieter and stop.  
But more times it didn’t.  
*  
Mickey didn’t like thinking about this shit. About his mom. About Molly’s mom. About Molly.  
He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d seen that kid.  
But he thought maybe about telling all this to Svetlana. He thought maybe they could trade shitty stories. He knew she must have some fucking stories. He knew she must have seen some shit, been through some shit.  
They could trade shit and then if they had to feel bad about it made more sense didn’t it? To be sad about people and to feel like shit about people and to miss people who had actually been people?  
Real people like his mom.  
He could talk to her about this.  
He knew that was one of the things that drove her crazy about this house. Maybe it was even the main thing. No one ever talked to her not really.  
No one had the time or the patience for her broken English and her boring as shit stories (they had to be boring right?) about her life back in Russia. And you could only hear so many stories about the guys who asked her to pee on them or just paid $50 to touch her feet before even those stories got old.  
Someone shot her once. She didn’t tell him about it.  
But Mickey saw the scar the first and only time she ever changed in front of him. That ugly little hole on her chest right under her bra.  
It hadn’t been there the only time they’d ever fucked.  
Or maybe he just hadn’t noticed.  
He’d been doing his best not to really see her after all.  
But she’d noticed him noticing the scar and was quick to put on a t-shirt.  
She changed with the door locked after that.  
Mickey was glad.  
So he thought maybe he could ask her about that.  
They could trade “how I got shot” stories. But the way she’d been so quick to cover herself Mickey had a feeling she wouldn’t want to talk about it.  
*  
They could talk about men Mickey considered. She fucked so many she must have categories of who she liked and who she didn’t and why.  
He could never really do that with anyone.  
Not with Ian. It would be too fucking gay.  
And when he was with Ian his mind was pretty bad at thinking about anyone else.  
There wasn’t really room for anyone or anything else.  
That was the point of Ian. Those brief periods where he’d fill Mickey’s head and his heart and he’d take over all of it and Mickey got to get away for just a little while from how shit everything was.  
Because there was Gallagher.  
Just him.  
And Mickey thought about that.  
However shitty things were and they were incredibly fucking shitty.  
He had Gallagher.  
At least.  
What did this woman have? Laying in his bed staring at nothing. Crying about someone who would never be anything.  
“But he’ll also never get his jaw broken.” Mickey wanted to say.  
He’ll never know what it’s like to feel a burn which hurts like shit by the fucking way.  
He’ll never watch his mother die or see a junkie go through detox and that shit it fucking stays with you.  
He’ll never know what it’s like to be so hungry you steal.  
He’ll never have to live in this house.  
Never.  
He’ll never know that feeling of crying so hard it makes everyone else want to kill you but it’s the only way you know how to make it clear how much you need and have someone love you enough to hold you close and walk with you and sing to you until you feel safe enough to sleep and stop.  
He has to say something to her. He knows that.  
Or he’ll never get to leave this room.  
But what’s he going to say? How can he even start?  
Turns out he doesn’t have to be the one though.  


“The baby,” he hears her say and her voice is hoarse from lack of use.  
“Yeah?” He says.  
“It would have loved me.”  
Mickey doesn’t know what to say to that. He thinks about pointing out that just because you give birth to something that doesn’t guarantee you’ll love it or it’ll love you.  
But as much as he feels like that’s the truth it also feels like bullshit.  
Because he’d loved his mom.  
He remembered how much he’d loved his mom.  
And Molly’s mom had wanted her kid so much she’d let herself be chained to a bed for a week and put through hell.  
So a part of him thinks that giving birth to something guarantees it’ll love you.  
It’s the first thing it’ll know how to do.  
50/50 probably he thinks.  
It could go either way.  
It’s different for women probably.  
It must be…  
“Lana?” he says finally.  
And she looks at him but she doesn’t say anything.  
Her lips are also incredibly chapped.  
From crying probably.  
Mickey thinks she’s got the saddest eyes he’s ever seen and that’s…that’s saying something.  
“You want…” he begins and then he asks, “you want some ice?”  
And she stares at him and she gets this look on her face like she might start crying again but she doesn’t.

She just nods.


End file.
